


Johnny Voyeur

by Tigresse



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Consensual Kink, Fluff and Smut, Foot Fetish, I Don't Even Know, M/M, Rimming, Shameless Smut, Some Humor, Some Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-17
Updated: 2017-08-26
Packaged: 2018-12-16 16:20:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11832456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tigresse/pseuds/Tigresse
Summary: John finally accepts his feelings towards Sherlock but doesn't know what to do with himSebastian offers a solution, generously!





	1. Watch and Learn

**Author's Note:**

  * For [GalaRey](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GalaRey/gifts).



John Watson was in a dilemma.

After years of self-denial about his sexuality, he had moved to a slightly better stage where he had accepted that he was gay for only one man, Sherlock Holmes. Sherlock with his liquid green eyes, aquiline beauty and tall statuesque build had managed to do what no man ever had done before. Doctor John Hamish Watson was now ready to admit he didn’t mind desiring a person who had a cock and not a vagina. 

Now came the next phase of difficulties. He had been so obstinate about not agreeing to his ‘homosexual’ status that he had never explored the options of understanding the nuances of gay sex. Usually people learned by their own experience or other people’s experiences and John had an advantage of none. He had unwittingly denied himself friends who had those inclinations and ‘gay porn’ had not been much of an educator either. After trying to tie Sherlock up in a certain BDSM style, which resulted in the detective getting his ankle and wrist sprained, he had been threatened with dire consequences if he ever got too experimental again. 

Night after night he craved to plunder the beautiful body of the sexy man who now slept on the same bed as him and night after night his endeavours ended with nothing more than hand-jobs and kissing and a bit of frottage. 

He was beginning to worry that Sherlock, still a virgin three months into their confirmed status as a couple, would get bored and dump him. 

So, one evening, when he overheard Sherlock speaking to his University ‘crush’ Victor Trevor, he realized that something had to give. That, or he would lose the man of his dreams. 

So he called the only man he could trust with this ‘education and exposure’, though a part of him screamed at the blatant idiocy of it. 

Sebastian Augustus Moran. 

***

“Stop laughing,” John growled, setting his mug of beer down with much force, “Honestly, just stop now.” 

“Ohhhh….this is too funny,” Sebastian wiped his tears and clutched at his belly, “John you are hilarious.” 

John shifted uncomfortably in his chair and looked away. He was so experienced with women and now those pairs of breasts did nothing for him. All those years of labour and learning in vain. He felt like a man with a University degree being sent back to primary school. He glared at his former army mate till Sebastian sobered down and looked at him through twinkling eyes. “We saw it, every one of us did, that detective always liked you. Maybe if you had given him a chance by then you could have made him have your babies by the dozen.” 

“Moriarty and you have been an item for years, how many babies have you had huh?” John shot back. 

“We are soon going to have a boy, a Moriarty-Moran boy,” Sebastian said with an air of pride and accomplishment, resting his elbows on the table and leaning forward a bit, “Jim and I have found a surrogate and she is carrying our child as we speak. In five months, we will be saying hello to Jamian Moran Moriarty. Of course, the name is a combination of our names, Ja from James and Ian from Sebastian. I can already see him, Jim’s eyes and my build, Jim’s hair and my skin, Jim’s intelligence and my toughness, Jim’s manipulative skills and my eyesight and instincts…..” 

“How about Jim’s toughness and your manipulative skills?” John asked crookedly. 

Sebastian was known as a brute but a very straightforward and honest brute. He couldn’t lie or manipulate to save his arse. Jim on the other hand was delicate in many ways. Often down with either cold and flu or a stomach upset or a back ache, it required all of Sebastian’s nursing skills to keep the self-neglecting criminal in proper shape. 

The slight hit home and Sebastian winced, “Be nice to our child at least.” 

“Oh I wish him well,” John said instantly, “Congratulations by the way! But we are digressing.” 

“Okay, I am all ears. Tell me what can I do for you.” 

“I…umm….can I….I mean…” 

“Out with it John.” 

“Is it possible for me to watch how you two….get it on?” 

As he let the cat out of the bag, John blushed as red as the ridiculous jumper he was wearing. Expecting a rebuke or a snarling response from an offended Sebastian, he awkwardly lowered his eyes, hoping the colonel didn’t throw some notes on the table and walk off in a huff. His surprise knew no bounds therefore when the sniper responded in the friendliest and easiest manner. 

“That can be arranged.” 

“Huh? Really?” 

“Jimmy loves it when he is watched. Ask Sherlock. When they were together, briefly, like an experiment, Sherlock liked to get off on watching Jim use a dildo….” 

“No, no, please, I don’t need to know. I don’t have your heart Moran. I prefer to think Sherlock is still a virgin.” 

“That he is. Why do you think I allowed Jim his fun and he soon grew bored of the detective?”

“Ah I see,” John heaved a sigh of relief, glad that Sherlock had not lost his cherry to James Moriarty, had never been willing to! In a way, it also pleased him that Sherlock was actually willing to go the full length with him. His flat mate had hinted in multiple ways that he wanted to get on with the real thing with John, investing his trust and faith on his best friend. Now it was John’s turn to repay that trust with an experience that would be nothing short of ‘fabulous’. Being Sherlock’s first would be an honour, an honour and privilege he would cherish and execute to the best possible capabilities he possessed. 

“I will give you a key,” Sebastian said, “Come to 222C and hide in the closet tomorrow at around 10 PM. You won’t be disappointed.” 

“But…but….but….this is our neighbour….I mean the flat next door….” 

“Yeah and in case you hadn’t gotten Mrs Hudson’s hint, we are the ‘married ones’ who stay there on and off.” 

“Ohhh….” 

“Yup.” 

“Why tomorrow, if I might ask?” 

“Because tonight we are both working. Tomorrow is pre-weekend and no matter where we are and what we are doing, we always have sex on Friday nights. We call it Friday night Vroom Vroom.” 

John left the pub with disturbing images of two racing cars humping each other on a NASCAR track. 

***

“Where are you going John?” Sherlock asked. 

John stopped, “Some personal work, have to meet a couple of friends of mine. They are here only for the night and I had told them I’d spend some time with them, so can’t go back on that promise. Is there something you had in mind for this evening Sherlock?” 

Sherlock looked at him blankly, the sort of look he always had when he had been asked an unexpected question or a question that didn’t involve deductive reasoning. In matters such as this the poor fellow was quite lost and John felt sorry to have asked him something so point blank. To soften the blow he added, “There is no case on currently and I have taken the day off from the clinic tomorrow. We will go and watch a horror film, Conjuring 2, like you said you wanted to, and then go for dinner at the restaurant of your choice. End the evening with a quick stop at Lestrade’s because he promised me a stack of ‘Jack the Ripper’ theories that were lying in the police archives. I know you like those….so…..I’ll be back in no time, okay?” 

“Okay,” Sherlock said sullenly and as John closed the door behind him he added, “Only lies have details.” 

***

John had to admit that this was probably not a good idea. After sitting in his dark, cramped up position in the closet, waiting for the two men to walk into the flat, he was beginning to feel itchy, achy and stiff all over. His feet had pins and needles and his nose twitched from the flannel shirts and furry jackets that were hanging around him. Gosh, so James Moriarty didn’t always wear Westwood or Burberry and Sebastian Moran didn’t spend his life in denim or leather. When they were in this flat they dressed like ordinary mortals, in run down clothes and well-worn shoes. Fantastic! 

He heard the front door being unlocked. 

Moments later Moriarty burst into the room, giggling and bouncing. He was drunk, dazed and very delicious in a pair of hip hugging distressed jeans and a hoodie. The hoodie was tossed off near instantly and John had a grandstand view of Jim’s smooth and sexy upper torso, almost hairless and untouched by the sunlight, milky pale with some freckles on the naked shoulders. As he toed off his shoes Sebastian Moran came into the room, already having disposed his shirt off somewhere. He grabbed Jim and turned him upside down, then peeled off his jeans in one smooth motion. 

John held his breath. That forceful and possessive act was rather…. enticing. 

Sebastian begins a lewd, almost stripper like dance as he discards the rest of his clothes. Even a man like John must admit, the colonel has style and panache in whatever he does. He makes stripping look like an art. Moriarty in the meantime sits on the bed, naked and hard as a rock, wearing only his socks. Somehow he looks hot and disturbingly obscene, legs spread, hard member pointing upwards, a manic but sexy grin on his boyish face, his normally tamed and styled hair sticking up in tufts. 

“Are you ready private?” Sebastian growls at his mate. They are role playing clearly!

“C’mon Colonel sir, gimme some,” Jim begs, going on all fours and shaking his arse at Seb. 

Sebastian smacks those pale globes hard, making Jim moan and yelp, then tugs off those socks from the criminal’s feet. Then he flips Jim on his back and starts sucking on his toes. 

John had heard of foot fetishes but never been too keen on them. But this arouses him. 

Jim moans and thrashes about Sebastian continues to attack his toes and foot like he was gorging on a juicy chicken leg. Slurping sounds and soft hums, moans and pants fill the room as the sniper pleasures his boss, making him emit mewling noises and soft cuss words. 

“P….Please…..don’t stop,” Jim begs, “Sir please fuck me!” 

That is hot! It’s somehow a huge turn-on for John as he considers the scenario. A powerful, manic man like Jim reduced to moans and pleas, right now so beside himself with arousal that he isn’t above begging, it sure speaks of power-play in the bedroom. No wonder Sebastian has reached where he is. He has the powerful Moriarty in the palm of his hands, by grabbing him by the balls when they make love. To the world Moriarty is the monster, the predator, the man in charge but in private he is a little slut who is ravaged, owned and possessed by the powerful Moran. John commits the scene to memory and imagines himself doing the same things to Sherlock, drawing out similar sounds from his man. 

That’s what lights his flame and before he knows it he is palming himself over his pants. 

The scene changes before him and he sees Moran do something unspeakable. He is rimming his boss now. Jim has gone back to his former position of all fours, panting and trembling on his hands and knees as Sebastian tongue fucks him and makes him scream with pleasure. John trembles, hard as a rock in his pants, barely able to keeping himself from hyperventilating. This is like watching his own private porn show with two men whom he had never ever viewed sexually. 

Yet….

Something makes him wonder how it might feel like if he were to join them. 

When Jim comes with a shout of ‘Bastiaaaan’, John cups his own mouth to stop the loud moan that threatened to tumble out. 

Instead he watches, eyes agape, as Sebastian flips Jim on his back and enters him with minimal preparation. Still awash from the endorphins of his first orgasm, Jim doesn’t seem to feel any pain. He welcomes the hard thrusts as Moran starts to pound inside him. 

The cramped space no longer bothers John. The extreme tightness of his pants does. 

“Uh-Uh-Uh-Uh-Uhhhhh,” Jim goes with each thrust, turning his head to one side and then the other as he is taken hard and fast, the bed shaking, things falling off the nightstands on either side, the scent of sex and male arousal rising and spreading through the still air. 

It doesn’t gross out John. The doctor is shocked by his body’s reaction to this. Voyeurism was not something he had ever indulged in but now that he had, he was beginning to have naughty thoughts crowding his head about doing this again, and again, and yet again. 

But first, he had to do all of this with Sherlock. 

A loud cry followed by a bellow of ‘Jimmy’ brings him back to his senses and he gasps as he watches the two gyrating lovers stiffen and shudder, milking each other out. While Jim groans and lies spent, eyes fluttering shut, Sebastian shows plenty of stamina still as he noses down his lover’s body and begins to lick it clean. “I love you more than ordering the assassination of that Libyan leader,” Jim says, stifling a yawn. As Sebastian hovers above him, he lifts his head and bites at the dog tags that dangle inches from his mouth. 

“I love you more than a clean hit between the eyes,” the sniper says in an animalistic rasp ad it’s only then that John realizes who he had been watching. The two criminals, two murderers, a mastermind and his lieutenant. Of course, endearments between them wouldn’t be anything more than those he had just heard. 

***

John feels weird as he sits there in the closet, feeling unusually warm and uncomfortable. He has come in his pants from just watching two people having sex. He hadn’t even opened his pants, all he had done was rub himself over his clothes and now he has sticky messy underwear that begs for a change. But he has to wait till the two of them fall asleep to sneak out and return to his flat next door. Just because Moran invited him there, it wasn’t any guarantee that his evil boss was in agreement with that plan. What if he was not and wanted to turn John into brogues or Oxfords?

Suddenly the closet door opens. Sebastian Moran stands there in a tiny towel that barely covers his modesty. 

He points to the door with his eyes and nods. John takes the hint and gets out of the closet as quickly and quietly as he can. He takes a few steps rather gingerly, wincing as his numb cramped feet protest and stinging pain shoots up the leg that had once been injured in battle. Sebastian understands and supports him lightly till he is okay to walk out of the room on his own. The sniper follows him and stands near the main door, cigarette dangling from his mouth, eyes glowing with laughter even though his mouth isn’t even curled into a smile. 

“You look smug,” John says. 

“I have reason to,” Seb responds. 

“Yeah well, that was hot,” John admits. 

“I know. But I feel you shouldn’t be taking a leaf out of our book.” 

“And pray why not?” 

“Because no two couples are the same. I do what works for him, for me, for us. You should do the same for yourself and your detective. What works for you.” 

“And let these newly learned tricks go to waste? No.” 

“Your choice buddy. Now off you go or he will turn you into…..” 

“Shoes? I know.” 

“Nah!” Sebastian laughs slightly, releasing a plume of smoke in the space between them, “His latest fetish is turning people into musical instruments.” Those words construe an image of his own body twisted and turned into a trumpet and John knows that picture would haunt him for a while. He shudders slightly, shaking his head. “No thanks,” he is already bounding down the stairs, eager to get away from there now, “Not so musically inclined. I am better off being John Watson.” 

“Precisely,” Sebastian calls out after him, “Remember that in bed.”


	2. Johnny Lover

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> HOT JOHNLOCK with a little bitty realization based dialogue at the beginning!
> 
> Or...
> 
> John goes from voyeur to lover with a small initial stumble!

When John entered 221B Baker Street he was expecting Sherlock to be still up, since he hadn’t been gone for more than an hour, but what he wasn’t expecting was for his mate to be seated in the exact same place and in the exact same pose he had left him in. 

Feeling a bit guilty about leaving him behind and for lying to him, John offered him a too wide smile and said, “Shall we go to bed?” 

Sherlock offered him a slow once over at first, followed by a long look into his face, and finally a barely perceptible nod. Then, without a further word, he got up and strode to the bedroom. His shoulder brushed John’s arm but he didn’t stop, turn or offer that impish smile he so often did shortly before they were about to get into bed. John shrugged, blamed it on Sherlock’s boredom or his anger at being left alone in the flat and walked towards the bedroom as well. He took off his jumper and draped it over a chair before giving his lover a confused look. “Are you not going to get that off,” he asked, pointing with his eyes at all the clothes his mate was wearing still. 

“Yeah,” Sherlock seemingly only realized then that he was fully clothed, “I will undress of course.” 

John had by then toed off his shoes, pulled off his socks and unbuckled and pulled off his belt. He remembered what he had seen a while ago and an idea struck him. In a flash he had his trousers and shirt off and was dressed only in his boxers and undershirt. He grabbed Sherlock, who was by then just out of his suit jacket, and started to take off his clothes roughly and quickly. 

Needless to say, a few buttons went off with soft ‘pings’ and Sherlock yowled when his expensive Swiss watch brushed too roughly on his skin and scratched the surface off. 

“Why?” He asked his older lover, eyes wide. 

Gosh, he looked hurt. 

“Sherlock I told you I had to meet friends….” 

“Not that. Why are you hurting me and tearing my clothes off? Have I done something to offend you?” 

John was taken aback, “I…um…I was just impatient to….you know…” 

“Oh.” 

“Okay, you take them off at your pace then. Sorry, didn’t mean to, you know….” 

Sherlock nodded but didn’t seem entirely satisfied with the answer. John grimaced, looking away from Sherlock so the great detective’s intuitive and observation skills didn’t spot the look of disappointment on his face. Damn, the first attempt at emulating Seb and Jim didn’t work. Sherlock was not even turned on by his desire for him, instead he was upset that his shirt buttons had been torn off and John had scratched him while rough handling him a bit. 

Maybe the next steps would work!

The moment they were both naked, John felt at a loss of words and actions. He was painfully hard by then and wanted nothing more than to have some relief for his aching loins. But his priority of pleasuring Sherlock came much before that and he suddenly remembered that Sebastian had sucked Jim’s toes. Grabbing Sherlock’s left foot, he brought it abruptly to his mouth. Sherlock was not expecting this and, taken aback, suddenly found himself landing on his back, head hitting the headboard. It was not a hard hit but it left him a bit stunned and unprepared for the thing that came up next. John hot and wet mouth on his big toe and the second toe of his left leg. 

Sherlock jerked his foot back near immediately. It was a reflex action and his eyes were wide. But before he could utter a word of caution to his flatmate and lover, John attempted to suck his toes again, this time holding his foot in a firmer grip so he wouldn’t be able to withdraw. Sherlock panicked for a moment, then let out a soft keening sound followed by a loud bellow of laughter. John looked up in alarm, this reaction was entirely unexpected and it threw him off guard. He tried to look cross as Sherlock howled with laughter, sucking in shuddering breaths between peals of it. 

John let go. 

“Oh oh ohhh not don’t,” Sherlock kicked at John as the doctor tried to grab his ankle. This time John hadn’t even meant to suck those toes, he was only going to pull Sherlock closer, and this unexpected reaction from the detective caught him by surprise. 

He landed on the floor on his butt. Very offended, he frowned as he stood up. 

“Lighten up will you?” He demanded, hands on his hips. 

Sherlock looked at him, a combination of hurt, dismay and disappointment crossing his face. The next moment he buried his face in the pillows, curled up in foetal position and pulled the sheets over his head. John was about to snap at that too when he heard a soft sound of distress and everything just flew out of his head. The only thing that remained was his love and concern for Sherlock, who seemed to be crying.

Yes, he was crying, he was trying to keep the sobs in. 

“Sherlock…baby….”

“Go away.” 

“Listen to me….” 

“Just leave me alone.” 

“Hey, I am sorry okay? I didn’t mean to hurt you….” 

The sheet was thrown aside and an angry, teary Sherlock sat up, sniffling and wiping his cheeks awkwardly. “Oh no, you didn’t mean to hurt me. You lie to me about meeting your friends, go and visit some prostitute and then come back and try to rape me and act like some stupid, directionless, sleazy drunk. You do this…this weird thing to my toes and tear my clothes and then yell at me….I could smell other people’s scent on your clothes and they were rumpled, indicating a tumble. You-You lied to me and cheated on me….you had even creamed you pants….I saw the stains of semen….fuck off John, I-I-I am done with youuu.” 

His last word ended in a sob and John’s heart broke. He hadn’t seen Sherlock cry, ever. They had had their rough patches, there had been dismaying and painful moments and hours of anxiety and stress, colossal losses and the fear of failure, even public humiliation. But never, not even once, had he seen this peerless detective in tears. Not even close. And now, he, John idiot Watson, had reduced the love of his life into a tearful mess. He felt like slapping himself at how stupidly he had acted.

“Sherlock?” 

Only a sob answered him. 

“Just hear me out. You deduced some facts correct but of course the details behind them are not quite true. This shows even genius detectives can be misguided by their minds. So, if I mean anything to you at all, please give me a patient hearing. Please love.” 

He heard a sniffle and a barely audible ‘fine’. 

“It’s true I didn’t go to meet friends. But I hadn’t been to a prostitute either. Sometimes truth is stranger than fiction so don’t jump when I say this, I went into 222C, the flat next door where….” 

Sherlock’s head poked out from under the sheets which he had pulled over his head again, after launching his rant at John. “The flat where the married ones stay?” He asked, “One of them…..you are having an affair with one of them?” 

“God no, not at all,” John gently ruffled Sherlock’s hairs and was pleased to see the man didn’t bat his hand away, “Those two aren’t having an affair with me, they can’t have an affair with me, because they are very happy together. Theirs is the most solid, stable and deep relationship I have seen between two people, even if that’s expressed in a warped way. They are so devoted to each other…..” 

“Enough with the adjectives,” Sherlock said impatiently, “Why did you go there?” 

“For a brilliant detective, you are slow with these things.” 

“JOHN.” 

“Okay sorry. Those two men are Jim and Seb.” 

“James Moriarty and Sebastian Moran. JAMES ISAAC MORIARTY AND SEBASTIAN AUGUSTUS MORAN? Those two live in our vicinity, right next door, they are….and you went….John I am not…..” Sherlock stopped as the cogs seemed to turn in his head, his handsome face lighting up with the ray of realization, “Oh my God, don’t tell me what I am thinking is right….but I am usually always right! Sebastian Moran and you sometimes meet for drinks and I have heard of the Colonel’s legendary sex drive and how often he stabs Jim with his weapon and shoots inside him, so to put two and two together, you went to him for sex advice. You wanted to understand how to do sex stuff with me from Colonel Moran?” 

John did a facepalm, “Honey, I didn’t ask. I watched.” 

A soft mewling sound came from Sherlock and he looked almost comical in this flabbergasted state. “You what?” 

“I was thinking I won’t be able to do the right things in bed with you Sherlock,” John decided to come clean about the whole thing, “I wanted to make you happy, to please you, satisfy you, make you want more. That was all I wanted and my intentions were to learn. As they say, you learn best by watching and replicating, so that’s what I was trying to do. Except that I ended up hurting and upsetting you. I am sorry.”

“Jawnn stop,” Sherlock drew the smaller man closer and then, like a great feline, snuggled into the warmth of John’s embrace, “Stop saying sorry. I am sorry I jumped to conclusions. Shouldn’t have done so! I didn’t mean to refuse your advances really….just that….” 

“Just what baby?” 

“They are not my thing.” 

“Ahhh, I get that now.” 

“My feet are ticklish, as a child I couldn’t even let anybody else help me put my socks on. As for the undressing part, that forceful manner was so NOT you. And I want YOU in my bed, I want my John, not some stranger I don’t recognize or feel comfortable with.” 

John lay down and pulled Sherlock on his chest, happy that the misunderstanding was over from both sides. “Seb said the same thing to me when he was seeing me off. I wish I had listened to him then. But I was hell bent on doing the same things to you and make you scream and beg as much as Moriarty was doing. He even bit Moran’s dog tags, that was bloody hot and sexy.” 

“Again John, I am not that type. Imagine me, biting your dog tags.” 

John laughed and gently pinched one of Sherlock’s nipples, “Yeah, let’s be ourselves. Forget this completely and start anew.” 

Sherlock nodded and threw the sheets off from his lower torso, revealing a growing erection, “Good, because I think I need more than just a hand-job tonight.” 

John wasted no time in talking after that. Though he had temporarily lost his erection it was back in full swing after seeing Sherlock naked and aroused and the sandy blond man climbed on top of the taller man claimed his mouth in a possessive, somewhat dominating kiss. To his happiness Sherlock surrendered enough to let him dominate but stayed active enough to give something back as well. He was an excellent kisser and John noted somewhere in his now fuzzy brain that no woman had ever made him rock hard just from a kiss. This man was special, Sherlock was so special for him!

His hands strayed downwards and gripped the nearly fully hard cock, giving it a few tugs. Sherlock’s eyes fluttered shut and he let out a moan into the kiss, hips jerking up as he tried to fuck John’s fist. A louder moan escaped him when John let his fingers trail downwards. A skilful press of his thumb at the spot between the brunette’s arse crack and his scrotum and those slender hips jerked again. Sherlock freed his mouth to let out a keening cry. 

“That was….” 

“I will make it better,” John said confidently. He had watched this and read about it on the net, making notes diligently. He hoped it would help and his partner would be comfy. “Lube Sherlock, let me get the lube,” he gently stretched over the detective’s body to grab it. 

As the first finger went into Sherlock, the man visibly tensed and almost stopped John. Sensing that he had to distract his lover, John carefully sucked on the head of the rock hard erection jutting up between those long legs, swirling his tongue around the slit. 

“Fuck John,” Sherlock bucked up so hard he almost threw him off. 

Satisfied that he was doing the right thing and sure that Sherlock was distracted, John inserted the finger in deeper. After moving it in and out a few times he felt Sherlock’s body relax and adjust to the intrusion. Sucking the man deeper, he pulled his fingers out and coated his next digit with lube, this time pushing both fingers in. 

Though he had expected Sherlock to object, he was elated to see the man push down on the digits instead. His moans were rising like the mercury in the summer, louder and louder, and John mused over how he had made his lover mewl out without having to do things the way Jim and Sebastian did. In no time he had three fingers up that prized arse, half of Sherlock’s cock down his throat and the moment he jinked his middle finger in a ‘come hither’ manner, he struck gold. 

Semen erupted into his mouth and Sherlock squealed out his orgasm as the soft walls of his anus started to spasm around John’s fingers. John felt triumphant even though the taste of his lover and friend was unexpected and he swallowed almost convulsively. 

Sherlock thrashed around in bed, gasping like a goldfish out of water, as John let go of his cock after a final, predatory lick. 

***

If this was the sight to die to, he would die a happy man!

John watched in absolute awe as Sherlock lay flat on his back with his legs over John’s shoulders, moaning his way to his second orgasm in under twenty minutes, his hands clutching at the headboard, pillows and sometimes even John’s arms. His eyes were dazed, pupils fully dilated, hairs flanking his sweaty face like a coronet around it, and his mouth open with drool escaping the corner of those edible lips. His entire body was flushed with arousal, an impressive dust of rose over marble skin, and his impressive wine coloured erection was lying flat against his abs as John pounded mercilessly inside him. 

“Jawwnn,” Sherlock cried out in a voice that was quite unlike his usual baritone, “You’re making me come again.” His eyes rolled to the back of his head and John saw all possible hints that his boyfriend was about to climax. He shifted Sherlock’s legs wider so he could slide in deeper and began to make shallow thrusts that nudges past the younger man’s prostate again and again and yet again. Sherlock attempted to touch himself but the pleasure was so excruciating and the lovemaking so rough, he couldn’t let go of the headboard and reach the destination. 

And he didn’t need to. 

Shots of creamy semen left Sherlock’s cock and landed all over his body, John smoothening and massaging them over the soft skin of his lover’s stomach and abs as he smiled down like a Cheshire cat. He had given Sherlock two enormous orgasms and stayed in control through it all. He had outdone himself and the result was a sated, sleepy, smiling Sherlock lying spent and innocent as a little lamb beneath him. 

He looked so ravishing in his post coital state that the sight itself was enough for John to almost topple over to his own peak of pleasure. But the doctor held on for just a few more seconds, enjoying the exquisite tightness around his dick, before he aimed for more.

Dropping the Sherlock’s long, deer-like pins to either side of his hips, John thrust in and out a few more times till he felt the sweet ache in his loins intensify and his balls spurt semen up to the point where his manhood began to throb from the effects. 

John let out a growling cry and whispered ‘I love you’ into a sweetly dozing Sherlock’s ears before he let go. As he came hard, he was sure he heard Sherlock mumble ‘I do too’. 

He cleaned them up and got back into bed minutes later. By then Sherlock was snoring a bit loudly, something he didn’t do unless he was really tired or had a cold and a nose block. 

John smirked. I wore him out, he thought, as he turned out the lights. 

***

“Sherlock?” 

“Huh John….I thought you were asleep.” 

“I was, until now,” John turned the bedside light on and stared at the unexpected sight of a fully dressed Sherlock about to sneak out with his boots in his hand. The digital clock on the nightstand said it was only five in the morning, not more than five hours since they had slept, and Sherlock was by no means an early riser. “What the hell is going on Sherlock,” he asked, “Unless it’s a case. If that’s what this is all about, a case, then shouldn’t you have woken me up as well?” 

Sherlock looked like a child caught stealing candy. “Um…no, not a case.” 

“Then….” 

“I wanted to see too,” Sherlock looked red faced and hot under the collar, “If you can, then why not me?” 

John grabbed him, “Bad idea. If you are caught Moriarty will skin you. And if Moran sees you he might ask you to join in. Besides, I thought you and I agreed to do things our way and not to take a page out of another’s diary?” 

“I think I….I might have gotten greedy,” Sherlock said, shrugging off his clothes again, “Forgive me John.” 

Later as Sherlock lay sleeping again and clock said it was six thirty am, John called Sebastian. 

“John Watson how dare you call my boyfriend?” Moriarty’s voice boomed through the line, “If you ever call him or as much as lay eyes on him I will gouge them out and I shall also ….Seb…Tiger….give me the phone, give it back to me, I want it baaaack you buffoon.” 

“John what the hell?” Sebastian answered amidst Jim’s yelling. 

“Just wanted to say thanks,” John answered, “Being John Watson in bed was a better idea than replicating what Sebastian Moran does. I am grateful.” 

“No problem John. Okay okay Jim, I am all yours, look I am blocking his number….” 

The line went dead. John lay back down and wrapped his arms around Sherlock, grinning broadly and wide awake as dawn appeared on the eastern skies. A rather interesting realization had hit him a little while ago. Seb and he had similar men in their lives - Crazy, skinny, possessive, jealous, adorable, sexy geniuses. 

Sherlock and Jim were really two sides of the same coin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Notes? What Notes? Sherlock ain't playing violin, he is in bed with Jawn ;-)

**Author's Note:**

> A little Voyeur John treat for GalaRey for her wonderful fics and also for being brave enough to read Semper Fidelis


End file.
